


Plushie

by Im_A_Terrible_Person



Series: Plushie [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: ? - Freeform, Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bottom Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Cock Warming, Come Inflation, Definitely didn't portray that right, Degradation, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Explicit Consent, Fluff, Ghost Sex, Kinda, Large Cock, Light Angst, M/M, Mind Break, Praise Kink, Somehow in the same fic, Stomach Bulge, Subdrop, Tags Are Fun, Those somehow aren't tags yet :), Top Wilbur Soot, Voodoo, Voodoo Plush, Voodoo doll, belly bulge, probably not actual voodoo, sorta - Freeform, voodoo sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Terrible_Person/pseuds/Im_A_Terrible_Person
Summary: A mysterious gift appears on Wilbur's doorstep. Whatever could it be?
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Series: Plushie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195808
Comments: 12
Kudos: 268





	Plushie

When Wilbur woke up, he wasn’t sure why. He lay still for a few minutes, almost falling back asleep before he decided to just get up. He opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep before rolling over to grab for his phone. There’s sunlight filtering into the room through the windows. So it was at the very least during the day.

He looked at his phone, holding it over his face. It was 11:34 am. He frowned. Why was he up? He sat up slightly, propping himself up on his elbows as he scans the room, looking for a disturbance. Had he been having a dream? He didn’t think so. He swung his legs off of the bed as he pulled the covers back; the hand holding the phone supporting him.

Wilbur got up, a little unsteady on his feet. He grabbed a sweater from his dresser, slipping it on as he left the room. He put his phone in his pocket as he walked to the kitchen, feeling thirsty. Wilbur grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, taking a sip. Just as he’s screwing the top back on, there’s a knock at the door, loud and impatient sounding.

He walks to the door, bending down to peer out at whoever was there. Or, rather, whoever had been there. The hall was empty. He opened it, looking down at the ground in confusion.

There’s an unmarked parcel, sitting unassumingly on the floor outside. He nudges it with his foot. It doesn’t move. He hesitantly leans down to pick it up, glancing down the hall either way to see if anybody is watching. There isn’t. He closes the door, locks it. He stares down at the package in his arms, not awake enough to properly process the situation.

He takes it back to his room, grabbing a pair of scissors from his desk. He debates grabbing something to put between him and the box, just in case it explodes or releases some sort of toxic substance. Those would help, he realizes, and just resigns himself to that fate.

Thankfully, nothing explodes. He relaxes, opening the box fully so he can see what’s inside.

It’s… a Schlatt plush? He stares at the stitched-on face, pulling out the two-foot Schlatt plush. A note fell out of the box as well. He carefully placed the plush down on his bed in favor of picking up the piece of paper. He skims over the remarkably brief note.

“No way.” He laughs into the still air of the room.

“Dear Wilbur, Schlatt voodoo plush. Anything you do to it, he can feel. Have fun ;) -A friend,”

He looks at the plush again, tentatively reaching for it again. That… wasn’t possible? Right? He couldn’t… was he still asleep? He pinches his arm, hard, hissing as he assures himself that this is indeed real. Wilbur takes out his phone, almost automatic as he goes through the motions of calling his boyfriend, Schlatt.“Wilbur?” Schlatt’s slurs, voice rough. Shit, had Wilbur woken him up?

“Sorry. Schlatt, I got a very interesting parcel just now.” He forges ahead, more concerned with the strange gift. God, this was such a strange situation to be in. Wilbur can’t believe this is real.

“What? What is it?” He hears rustling, as if Schlatt’s getting out of bed, halfway around the world.

“It’s one of your plushies. But, it came with a note.” He turns the plush over in his hands, blushing as he comes face to face with a very realistic-looking asshole. It’s slick, pulsing. He hears Schlatt hum.

“That note said this is a voodoo plush.” He turns it over again, so he stares down at its face.

“A what?” The sound stops as Schlatt focuses more on the phone call.

“It says, and I quote, ‘Schlatt voodoo plush’.” Wilbur reads, sitting down on the bed with the plush on his lap. There’s a pause where the situation sinks in, settles. He stares down at his phone, waiting for any response, anything.

“Is it?”

“Um. I don’t know, can you feel this?” He squeezes down slightly. He hears Schlatt wheeze. The softness of the plush swells between his fingers where he grips it. He could never squeeze Schlatt like this, not in real life. He’s not that strong, Schlatt’s not that malleable.

“Jesus Christ.” Schlatt sounds breathless. He’s reminded of the extra feature of the plush, closing his eyes as he tries to chase that thought away. Now wasn’t the time to be horny.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” He lets go immediately, guilt flooding him as he realizes he could have been hurting Schlatt. He listens attentively as Schlatt’s breathing goes back to normal.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. It just- It feels weird.” Hm. Wilbur grins. Maybe it was the time to be horny.

“It also had an interesting add-on. Can you feel this?” He strokes his fingers over the hole, shivering as he realizes its warm. The hole spasms under his touch, corresponding with the half-moan that Schlatt lets out. He continues petting over the hole. Spreading the slick he finds there.

“Yeah. What the hell?” He laughs a little, definitely more awake now. Wilbur grins at nothing, in particular, getting up to lock his door, just in case his roommate was awake, or even home. Wilbur sit’s back down, holding the plush in his lap.

“What does it feel like?” He asked, pressing a finger in. Schlatt moans, and Wilbur can hear a thud as his head flops back into his pillows. He wiggles his finger around, fucks it in and out until he feels like Schlatt would be ready for another. He pulls his finger out, looking around to see where he’d left the lube.

“Wilbur?” Schlatt’s voice brings him back. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” He stops. What was he doing? Was he going to fuck it? The thought sends a bolt of heat through him, making him fumble with the bottle as he placed it down next to the plush. Wilbur realizes he should probably ask Schlatt if he wants to do it. Before he can, Schlatt starts talking, remembering the question he’d asked.

“It feels-mph- it feels so big. Everything. Feels like I’m getting finger-fucked by a giant.” Wilbur huffs, smiling.

“Do you- do you want to do this?” God, he hopes so.

“Yeah. Please.” The sounds of Schlatt settling into his pillows mirrors him as Wilbur settles into his, leaning back as he brings the plush with him. He grabs the lube, slicking up his fingers as he returns to what he was doing before.

He put’s Schlatt on speaker. The sound quality wasn’t great, but hearing Schlatt’s moans and breathy little whimpers is so worth it. He tells him so.

“You sound so pretty.” He presses a third finger in, spreading them as he pulls them out. Schlatt chokes on whatever he was going to say, a throaty moan echoing in Wilbur’s room. Wilbur fucks him like that for a few minutes, angling his fingers around as he tries to find Schlatt’s sweet spot. He listens intently to Schlatt’s noises. He feels his cock harden in his pants, tenting them uncomfortably.

“WILBUR!” Found it. He pulls his fingers out, turning the plush around so he can admire its gaping hole, clenching around nothing as it wordlessly begs for Wilbur to fill him again.

“Wilbur, please. C’mon, I need something.” He sounds so needy. It gives Wilbur a power trip, knowing that he has all the control here, that Schlatt was completely at his mercy. He keeps begging, slowly getting more desperate as Wilbur leaves him hanging, desperate for anything to be inside him.

Eventually, even Wilbur couldn’t take his own teasing. He stripped his pants off, throwing them away from him haphazardly. He only barely manages to restrain himself long enough to slick himself up before he’s pushing in.

-

Schlatt’s very aroused and very confused. He’d woken up far too early to a phone call from his boyfriend, talking about things that shouldn’t even be possible. A few minutes passed, and now there’s a phantom cock fucking him in the ass.

And it feels so fucking good.

He doesn’t know how the plush works, but everything feels huge. Schlatt looks down, eyes half-lidded and hazy, and his shirt is moving with Wilbur’s cock. He feels like he’s stretched so wide, so full, and there’s nothing he could do about it. Sure, if he asked Wilbur to stop he would, but it’s the thought that counts.

He can’t move, only able to clutch at his phone as an invisible force fucks him stupid. He hears the slick sounds of it over the phone- or is it here?- as he’s stuffed so full of Wilbur’s cock he feels like he’ll burst.

“Are you enjoying yourself, princess?” Wilbur sounds barely affected, the lowness of his voice the only indicator. As if he wasn’t fucking into Schlatt. And, God, that stupid pet name. How he loved and hated that pet name. It made him feel like a dumb cockslut, only good for being fucked and looking pretty.

“Yeah.” He can’t think enough to come up with a clever response. Wilbur seems to realize this, as he bounces the plush on his cock lazily. Something about how composed Wilbur was compared to how completely wrecked he felt made Schlatt feel like his brain was melting.

“Aww, does my cock feel that good? You can’t even speak right, you dumb whore.” The condescension of those words made Schlatt’s hips jerk, clenching around Wilbur as he shouted. He felt so, so good. So good that he can’t even respond. All that comes out are moans, garbled fragments of Wilbur’s name, and pleas for more. Wilbur tsks, feigning disappointment as he brings the plush down a little harder, a little faster.

“You’re so rude, Schlatt. Can’t even respond to me when I talk to you. All you’re good for is taking cock, then? You’re just a stupid cocksleeve that can’t even be polite.” Schlatt came from that, hips jerking wildly as he spasmed around the cock still inside him, still fucking into him at the same pace as before. Schlatt’s voice breaks from the overstimulation, trying desperately to get away. He doesn’t tell Wilbur to stop, though.

Wilbur takes the hint, fucking into Schlatt harder, faster, sliding down so he can place his phone on the billow and use both hands to fuck up into the Schlatt plush. Schlatt’s cock reluctantly hardens, the pressure feeling like fire in his veins, bittersweet but oh-so intense. His hands scrabble at the sheets as he moans, voice already hoarse from the screaming he’d been doing.

“So good for me, princess. You’re my princess, yeah? My good little cockslut? My cumdump?” He whines, the degradation making his head fuzzy as Wilbur fucked within an inch of his life. Wilbur’s moans sounded through his room, static whenever he got loud. He could only imagine how it sounded to Wilbur. He felt himself start to cry as the pleasure mounted. Fuck, he was going to cum again soon. It felt so good to be so full. To be used. He hadn’t even touched his own cock yet, and there was already cum soaking through his boxers. Wilbur picked up the pace, his moans getting higher. Schlatt reached down, desperately jerking his own cock.

Then Wilbur came. Schlatt wasn’t expecting it, the sensation of being so full. So fucking full. He watched his stomach balloon under his shirt; he was so fucking full of Wilbur’s cum. Schlatt came, hips bucking weakly. He feels Wilbur start to pull out.

“Wait, stay in. I’ve got to show you this.” He struggles to get up, off-balance from the cum sloshing around in his guts as he hobbles to the bathroom. Schlatt ignores his fucked out expression in the mirror, instead opening the camera and pulling his shirt up. Fuck, he almost looked pregnant.

He takes the picture before he can complete that thought, sending it to Wilbur. Schlatt leans back against the wall, panting, as he waits for Wilbur’s response. He knows when Wilbur gets it, hears his breath hitch.

“Fuck, Schlatt. Oh my god.” He sounds breathless. His cock twitches inside of Schlatt, making him whimper. He doesn’t get hard again, thank god, but Schlatt’s been doing this for so long that he’s already revitalized. He feels tired, as he presses down on his stomach, moaning at the feeling of however much cum was inside him rocking around, pressing against his walls.

“Schlatt? Can I… Would you mind if I stayed in you? And then maybe fucked you again later?” Schlatt moans at the very thought.

“Go for it.” God, it wasn’t even 9am.

He knows when Wilbur gets up, he can feel it, it’s such a delightful feeling. Wilbur strips his pants off, puts them in the laundry pile, and returns to bed. He lets himself relax, feel useful, as he keeps Wilbur’s cock warm, nestled so deep inside him. He doesn’t know how much time passes, he just lets himself slip into a headspace where he’s perfectly content to be Wilbur’s cockwarmer until he was ready to fuck him again. Cum in him again whenever he needs to, fuck.

It feels like an eternity until he feels Wilbur get hard again. He blinks his eyes open, hazily reaching for his phone. He doesn’t know when Wilbur ended the call, but he wants to call him back.

Before he can, Wilbur pulls out. Then thrusts back in. Schlatt moans softly, not having the energy to be loud. He lets his brain melt as Wilbur fucks into him, again and again. Schlatt doesn’t need to think about how good it feels. He just needs to focus on being Wil’s good little cockslut.

Schlatt barely notices when he cums, staining his sheets. He’s in too deep, feeling so warm and fuzzy and soft and useful. He’s so good. Such a good cocksleeve. He feels his phone buzz, only just answers it. His limbs feel so heavy.

“Schlatt?” Wilbur sounds wrecked, his voice gravelly from overuse. Schlatt hums, barely audible. Wilbur goes silent for a moment, realizing what’s happened. Schlatt tries to slur out some words, but can’t bring himself to. He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say.

“Good boy.” Wilbur groans, deep and satisfied, as he fills Schlatt again. This time, he doesn’t waste any time before pulling out. Schlatt whines as he feels the come rush out of him, feeling so horribly empty after being so full for so long. All too soon, his stomach is back to normal.

“Schlatt? Princess? I need you to speak for me.” Wilbur sounds worried. Something in his voice makes Schlatt wake up a little.

“Wil?” He feels so small.

“Princess, Schlatt, I need you to sit up for me.” Schlatt does, humming. He can’t process words right now. “Alright, good boy. Could you get up for me?” He does, legs shaking. Schlatt almost collapses, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Wilbur. He’s a good boy.

“Good boy. Could you go to your kitchen?” He does. He hums again. “Good boy. Grab some water. And a snack. Anything you want.” Wilbur’s voice is soothing, almost a coo. He keeps repeating the process until he’s got Schlatt on his couch, nestled in some blankets.

“So good for me. I’ve got one last thing for you to do.” Schlatt hums, eyes closed.

“Go to sleep.” That’s all he needed. He barely has any time to process the words until he’s falling asleep, satisfied.

-

Wilbur sighs, hanging up the phone. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t called Schlatt sooner to check on him. He’s sure that when Schlatt wakes up, he’ll be scared and alone and confused. Worst of all, Wilbur won’t be there to help him. Even if he got a flight to America at this very moment, he wouldn’t get there in time.

The best he can do is text Schlatt, soft words that would hopefully help him resurface, help him get back to himself. And a request (not an order, no orders until Schlatt is better) for Schlatt to call him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on a roll today :D


End file.
